Committed Chapter 17

Hellenistic Inc.’s Headquarters was located at the very heart of downtown New Carthage.  It sat like an imposing crystalline obelisk between cement towers, rising high above the rest.  The logo, a shield behind the Inc. part of the title was gold with a lion emblazed upon it.

            Ariadne stepped out of the cab they had taken and was instantly assaulted with the sounds and smells that seemed native to these two blocks of the downtown area.  There was the salt on the air drifting off the nearby harbour water.  A fry truck was set up a dozen meters away and the smell of baking potatoes made Ariadne’s stomach grumble.  Traffic was backed up in a lunch-time frenzy and a few honks perforated the air.  Sun was glaring off of the glass sides of Hellenistic Inc. and Ariadne shielded her eyes against it.

            Along with all these usual sounds and smells was the additional sound of chants from a group of two or three hundred protestors gathered in front of Hellenistic Inc.  Ariadne recognized them as Occupy Protestors and spotted the numerous uniformed police officers standing in front of the entrance to Hellenistic Inc. to prevent anyone from going inside.  Along with this, a couple of police cars were keeping the traffic clear of the protestors, thus causing the traffic back up.

            Ariadne felt her heart seize in her chest and ushered Paris to the side as he climbed out of the cab behind her.

            “Wow, what’s going on?” Paris asked as she pushed him behind one of the numerous maple trees that were planted between the sidewalk and the road all down the street.

            “Police,” Ariadne explained, glancing around the corner of the tree.

            “Don’t you think this looks a little suspicious?” Paris asked.

            Sure enough, a couple of people walking past them were glancing at them strangely.  Ariadne took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves.  She hadn’t even been considering getting into her father’s office as a potential problem.  Normally, she would have been able to go up to the police line and explained she was Ariadne Helen come to see her father and they probably would have let her right through.  But now, with Paris’ recent arrest warrant, those officers would all no doubt know about them.  Even if they weren’t specifically on his payroll like Officer’s Seth and Antenor they would still attempt to make the arrest.

            “How are we going to get past them?” Paris asked.

            “I don’t know, those protestors don’t look like they’re going anywhere,” Ariadne bit her bottom lip as she thought.  “There has to be another way we can get in.”
            “We could try to start something, get the police distracted?” Paris offered.

            “No,” Ariadne said emphatically.  “We’re not dragging anyone else into our mess.  We don’t want anybody else getting arrested over us.”

            “Okay, okay,” Paris said, “but do you have another idea?”

            “Maybe,” Ariadne said.  “There should be an employee entrance around back.  We might be able to get in through that.”

            “Okay, let’s go.”
            Ariadne nodded and the two of them backtracked down the street and cut up to the parallel street.  Doubling back from the opposite side of the building now, Ariadne led them into the parking lot directly behind Hellenistic Inc.  The parking lot also extended below ground, and Ariadne knew her father had his own personal garage separated from employee parking.  The employee entrance was far less grand than the glass entrance flanked by pillars around the front.  It was a simple door with a keypad next to it that required an access code in order to enter.

            “Damn,” Ariadne cursed.  “I don’t know what the passcode is.”
            “Hold on,” Paris said, stepping up.  “Give me your cellphone.”
            Ariadne frowned, but handed over the cellphone.  Paris reached up to the keypad and cupped his hand over the top in order to shield the light.  Paris then bent down and looked up at the keypad at an angle, bringing the phone up towards the keys.

            “Three, six, seven, and zero,” Paris said.

            “What?”

            “Those are the keys that have been pressed the most.”

            “How do you know?”
            “Two reasons.  There’s a slight sheen on them from the sweat coming off of people’s fingers when they press the keys and they’re slightly more worn from continual pressing.”

            Ariadne cocked an eyebrow at Paris.

            “Well, I don’t know what order they’re in, but it’s something, right?”

            “You are unbelievable,” Ariadne laughed.  She couldn’t help it.  It was just too much.  “How on earth did you know that would work?”
            “I didn’t,” Paris explained.  “I just had a hunch.”
            “A hunch.”

            “A theory.  A feeling, guess, instinct, intuition, idea, hypothes-“

            “I get it,” Ariadne cried.  She slapped Paris’ arm playfully.  “Knock it off.”
            Paris grinned, looking into her eyes, and they stood like that for a moment.  Ariadne suddenly realized that she hadn’t taken her hand off of Paris’ arm.  Her hand was cupping his right triceps and it was firm and strong beneath her fingers.

            She suddenly imagined Paris leaning forward, his hand cupping her face, pulling her face towards his.  Their lips inched together.  His lips parted, whispering her name.

            With a start, as if she’d been shocked, Ariadne was back in the present and dropped her hand from Paris’ side.  She saw the disappointment in his eyes and she quickly turned to the keypad so that he wouldn’t see the same disappointment in her own eyes.

            “Okay.  Three, six, seven, and zero.  That’s a lot of different combinations,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.  What was wrong with her?

            “It’ll probably lock us out and alert security if we get it wrong one too many times.  I’d say we probably have three guesses.  Four if we’re lucky.”

            “We definitely have more than four combinations,” Ariadne pointed out.

            “Well, we might as well give it a shot,” Paris said.  He reached past Ariadne and punched in 3670 on the pad.  The screen at the top blinked ERROR.

            “One shot down,” Ariadne said.  She found her eyes dancing up Paris’ outstretched arm and gazing at his face in profile.  His face was marked with thought as he considered another possible combination.  He turned to her and she darted her eyes away.  But it was a second too late.  She knew he’d seen.

            “You want to give it a shot?” he asked.

            “Sure,” Ariadne nodded.  She reached forward and punched in the reverse of Paris’ try: 0763.  Again, ERROR was her response.

            As she pulled back she felt Paris’ eyes on her.  She felt as though her skin grew warm where his eyes fell.  His eyes drifted over her neck and across her cheek.  She shivered involuntarily.

            “You go.”

            “Sure,” Paris replied, his voice musky.

            Ariadne closed her eyes and hated herself.  She hated how much she liked Paris’ eyes on her.  She hated how much she wanted to reach out and pull him towards her.  She hated how warm his smile made her and how much she wanted to look into his eyes and know he was looking back at her, really looking back at her.

What was wrong with her?  She was running from a maniac who was after both of them.  It was just the adrenaline, right?  It wasn’t real, was it?

            But she knew that was wrong.  Everything that had been happening in the last twenty-four hours might have brought it all to the surface but she knew damn well that all of this had been just below the surface.  All the adrenaline and fear of the last few hours had just brought down the walls she’d built around those feelings.

            “Got it!”

            Ariadne snapped her eyes open and caught the tail end of ACCEPTED on the keypad before a buzzer sound and Paris grabbed the door handle.

            “After you, m’lady,” Paris said, making a sweeping gesture as he pulled the door open.

            Ariadne smiled at him and quickly drew her eyes away, afraid to let him hold her gaze too long.  She felt vulnerable with his gaze on her.  She hated that her feelings were not under her control.  She needed to regain that control and fast.

            The employee entrance put them into a stairwell.  The stairs extended far up above them, as well as down below them to the parking garage.  Ariadne hurried over to the door opposite the entrance and peered into the lobby.  Her father’s office was on the top floor and taking the stairs would waste energy and time.  She glanced either way and saw that nobody was immediately around.

            “Come on,” she urged.  She opened the door and stepped into the lobby.  She had seen the lobby a thousand times.  Black walls and scattered pillars struck against the white tiled floor.  There was a secretary’s booth with three secretaries almost immediately in front of the entrance, separated from the glass doors by a large green rug.  There were various potted plants and other elements of visual appeal which gave the entire lobby the sophisticated appearance of entering into an office building where money was readily available and lavishly spent.

            The three secretaries were all focused on the front entrance where the Occupy Protestors were continuing to draw their attention.   Ariadne beckoned Paris over to the elevator, just to the left of the stairwell door.

            She called the elevator and luckily it was only a couple of floors above them so they didn’t have to wait long.  They hurried inside and Ariadne hit the button for the top floor.

            “I feel like the Mission Impossible music should be playing,” Paris said, grinning as the elevator rose.

            “Hardly,” Ariadne replied.  “This is simple.  If my dad doesn’t help us…” she couldn’t finish the thought.  Paris reached out and took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

            At first, Ariadne wanted to pull away, but she found she couldn’t muster the strength to do it, and squeezed him back.

            Their ears popped once on the way up and Ariadne grimaced slightly.  The floors clicked by on the red LED lights above the door.  By some stroke of luck, nobody else seemed to need the use of the elevator that day so nobody joined them on their ascent.

            “I feel like I’m rising up to the top of Mount Olympus,” Paris laughed.  He sounded nervous.

            At last, there was a near silent ding and the elevator doors slid open.  Directly in front of them was an L shaped secretaries desk, the stem of which receeded into the wall opposite them.  Beside that desk was a double set of opaque glass doors.  A secretary was seated at the desk.  She was young with strawberry blonde hair tied up in a bun at the crown of her head.  She looked up at them casually and smiled.

            “He’s expecting you,” she said pleasantly, and returned to her computer which she had continued to type at without missing a key stroke.

            Ariadne and Paris exchanged a confused glance before walking over to the double doors.  Ariadne reached out and took hold of the C-shaped door handles.  Hesitating a moment longer, she pushed it forward.

Arthur Helen stood in the center of his office, the entirety of which – couches, desk, windows, curtains, and walls – was a deep aquamarine.  There was a pair of window washers outside of the window, one on either end of a platform hooked up to the roof of the building.  The window was obscured by cleaning solution and as the Ariadne pushed the doors open they wiped the solution away to render the glass crystal clear.  Arthur Helen was on his cellphone at the tail end of the conversation.

            “…just give me 20 minutes,” he finished saying.  He hung up and turned to Ariadne and Paris.  He registered no surprise at seeing the two of them there.

            “Dad?” Ariadne asked.  She took a tentative step forward but paused with one foot on either side of the threshold.

            “Come in, Ariadne,” Arthur Helen said, his voice heavy.  “We have a lot to talk about.”